funny because..

I have often wondered
what has happened to the depth of my heart. I know what it
is, Catherine Tate is on BBC News.
The slight slur
of this universe makes me  call your phone, like the
wolf hiding in my loaf of bread. The lady on the other end
sings B*****D to me. Her hair is a cloud and it says
I WANT TO DIE.
I still call your phone, without urgency anymore.
I feel the syllables of your name on my neck. There is a tiny
pub on the 2nd floor of my house and I rest my head on
the cherry wood. I think of you there. I think of you often
and with urgency, a train into my heart. I drift into the
butcher's and the blood on his hands makes me think of you.
There is a family's worth of time, resting in my hair. I walk
to the park and turn into a tree, time to think of you. I cut my hair
so I am a
hawk, dangerous and womanly. The tiny strands falling
like tourists with umbrellas make me think of you.
Greek Gods have touched me in places of boulders. I think of you, I
hope you do not know my hairline is currently like a cremation. You know
I am not doing very well. I pray like a sermon,
and the horse in my throat is still dancing; this makes me think of you, too.

Author's Note

its funny i write this because im happily engaged to the man of my dreams but its not about him its about all the people i miss and how i wish i could call their phones alas, my dad doesnt own a phone in the big void of death, and i wish so so much i could say heaven but i cant because i am atheist and that means i cant. but im not an atheist, i just dont WANT religion, i think it infects you and makes you bat shit craZZZZYYY, but maybe i should be religious because that way you'd like me and maybe people would publish me, i was supposed to be getting published this month but i went crazy and declined all the copyright forms because i was being scammed and tricked into spending £20 on a A5 softback and my writing would only take up one page and at first, i gave them permission and was like ya sure but i dont want to buy it from you and they sent me a letter back saying oh hi safrina ahmed you need to buy a copy from us to get published and i sent them a mean horrible letter detailing my hate for them. So now, im not getting published. sad. kinda, because it was all for my boyfriend/fiance/best friend/rock and it was my little token of hey, i really love you, ive done this for you. but i guess not now, unless they magically decided to let me be included anyway. i hope they have. i dont mind being exploited.
i really miss my boyfriend too and just want to hug him. so here i am, writing all these crazy melodies in the crazy hope it distracts me from the heaviness of my heart. but its not working.
have you noticed how i said religion makes you crazy but i've said the word CRAZY a lot? yes, thats because us humans are at the mercy of our judgment and feelings and deprecation so..
i guess i could say im a victim of love and *that* has made me crazy.
but i like it
because i love love. its the greatest feeling in the world waking up and feeling your love reciprocated in the loveliest of ways and you just want to burst from the happiness and radiation of love. i love love and its tiny little heart, the way you can dig up your whole garden for the smallest little heart but when its there,
oh my god, love,
its so perfect and amazing.

have you noticed how i used the word love and crazy a lot during this..ramble?
yup, thats because im in love and crazy.

(im sorry for this huge ramble. i usually tell my bf these things but hes not around, so cafe, you're my replacment and you're doing a shitty job thus far. you dont have wonderful stubble and a wicked cool accent nor do you give the greatest kisses nor hold my hand, and when you do, you dont stroke my fingers like he does.

i hope someone reads this because no one reads my writing anymore.

Reviews

[Collect-Eye]

I love the picture you chose cause maths drives you crazy
and yes, admittedly, wayyyyy too many Americans use god as an excuse 'god' as an excuse to avoid self-responsibility
but a somewhat predictable portion of every classification of human being is gonna be s**t or awesome
and that's gonna fluctuate depending on the mood/atmosphere
life is pretty eclectic, keeps things interesting, like this poem

the advice given in the reviews below on publishing/poetry, public perceptions, etc. is pretty true

but there's so many mediums and avenues for all this

you also do philosophy and photography and will get into a host of other things in your future

if this [the cafe] helps you grow and we benefit from your genius for free, as Haz pointed out, YAY US!

But this isn't about just how an amazingly brilliant a writer you are...

this is about making peace w/ yourself and throwing rocks from the mountain of your heart and singing into the trajectories w/ out abandon

this is about reminding us the sheer terror unleashed in remembering how to feel

Does it matter if we get the meaning to
"The slight slur
of this universe makes me call your phone, like the
wolf hiding in my loaf of bread."
?

yes and no.

it matters that we feel it...it matters that we can visualize it...I can't be so presumptuous to decide for someone else if it's optionally as important to be able to apply that visualization to their own life or yours

it may just be that, that vision itself froze them into stumbling away from an answer about how it affected their mind

and there's as good a chance that having that a powerful poem will invoke silence or a revelation, and just as good a chance you invoked both

soooooooooo...... in answer to your comment
I love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
:p

[Steve]

I still read! This is a brilliant poem and I agree with Haz, it seems more connected than your previous work, in a way that us non-poetic types (speaking purely for myself) can really visualise.

As for getting published... I doubt you'll find anything here or even on 99% of Internet sites that aren't empty promises or straight up scams. My advice would be to buy a literary magazine or order one online and enter competitions that way, or submit work locally to any publications or newspapers you know of that might be interested in a young (extremely talented) person like yourself.

In short (this is turning into a mini essay!) the bad news is: no-one reads poetry anymore in a general sense as they did in the recent past, and certainly no-one reads it enough to pay any money for it. The good news is: talent will always stand out. Your writing is fantastic, fresh and original, don't be disheartened. A good novel, novella, book of short stories or poems will find its audience, and you're still young, you have so much more to experience and turn into words in your unique way.

All the best Safrina!

Steve

[Stammers]

Bad times with the whole publishing deal, that was the competition with the poetry society right? Poetrys a b***h because you kind of need the kudos from well known bodies for exposure (theres no poetry x factor) but your good enough to make it on your own, good for you for sticking up for what you thought was fair, start bending yourself like that and it will all unravel and you'll lose all of the reasons you had for writing in the first place.

I read the entry rules they gave for something once and thought f**k that lol sounded too formal for someone like me who only does this as a vent, oh and I also read their selected winners for the competition you got placed in, some were pretty seriously awesome, but wtf was with some of them, first shear of the year? What a crock of s**t.

Anyway, your rant threw me off, as for the entry you have given us free of charge above....!!!.... articulated in a totally different way than your other stuff on here, you stitched lines together rather than jumping so much, it worked well. Some gorgeous stuff, well it was all gorgeous, reading you is like a revelation in each line its so unique and intelligent, its just good poetry -

I feel the syllables of your name on my neck. There is a tiny
pub on the 2nd floor of my house and I rest my head on
the cherry wood. I think of you there. I think of you often
and with urgency, a train into my heart.

Maybe you’re getting frustrated with trying to get published, but in the mean time its WIN for fans like me. Your work is my favourite on writerscafe, but I accept there will come a day I’ll have to scroll through the pages of Amazons poetry section to get my fix. And btw, I think its only Americans that publish on the basis of ‘God’ being mentioned, atheism is just another word for ‘British’.

I always read your writing, sweetheart.